


Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester

by positivelyprouvaire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelyprouvaire/pseuds/positivelyprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas-time at the bunker, and everyone is just a little too festive for Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester

                “Hey, Sam. Give me a hand, here,” Charlie called out. She was standing in front of a giant tree that sat in the living room of the bunker. A _Christmas_ tree. Dean stood back, watching, as Sam put his freakish height to good use and put a star on the top of the tree. It wasn’t the kind of topper you’d see on a normal Christmas tree, but rather a makeshift star constructed from some random things found around the bunker. The rest of the tree was already drowning in the cliché twinkling lights, and those vivid, plastic ornaments.

                “C’mon Dean,” Sam complained. “Help us put up decorations. We still have all these lights to put outside. Oh, get this! Look what Charlie found.” Sam made his way over to Dean—which took all of three strides—waving a plastic shopping bag. He pulled out a fake wreath adorned with small, plastic moose, all wearing little scarves. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his head back.

                At the sound of footsteps, Dean turned to see Cas standing in the doorway between that room and the kitchen. “Yes, Dean. I think it would be a good idea to partake in the holiday traditions.”

                “If it’s all the same to you, Cas, I think I’ll stay here.” Dean waved the beer he was holding for emphasis. “All this Christmas stuff is stupid anyways. All the ‘ho ho ho’ crap. We had, like, no Christmases growing up and we turned out fine.” He turned his head to look at Sam who was giving Dean his well-known bitchface. Dean let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. What do you want me to do? Maybe sing some carols? Maybe a little _Jingle Bell Rock_?” Dean chuckled to himself and took another sip of his beer. Cas squinted hard at Dean. Feeling a little guilt, Dean hung his head and walked over to the coffee table. Picking up the moose-wreath, a hammer, and a handful of nails, he strode over to the wall next to the doorway Cas was standing in.

                “Could you hold this?” Dean asked, handing Cas the wreath.

                “Sure,” Cas said in that deep, rough voice he had. Dean began to wonder what that voice would feel like, whispering in his ear, his warm breath brushing against the side of his face. He started hammering nails into the wall to distract him from those dangerous thoughts. Dean reached towards Cas, who handed him the wreath. Dean’s hand accidentally brushed against Cas’ arm, sending what felt like a jolt of electricity up his own.

                “Uh, thanks man,” Dean breathed. He cleared his throat nervously and went back to hanging the wreath. He placed the wreath on the nail and watched as it fell in place, a little crooked, but at least it stayed there. “Alright. That’s enough Christmas cheer for me, today. I think I’m gonna take a siesta,” he announced.

                “Are you sure?” Sam remarked. “Dinner’s gonna be ready in half an hour.”

                “Ya you don’t want to miss my famous meatloaf recipe,” Charlie added.

                Dean flashed his best sarcastic grin. “Oh well in that case, I’m definitely taking a nap. See ya.”

                Charlie made a fake gasp as Dean made his way out of the room, down the hall, and to the door of his bedroom. He pulled the door open and flung himself onto his bed. _Ah, memory foam,_ he thought, smiling to himself. Just as he was almost asleep, he heard something behind him. Dean sat straight up and twisted around to see Cas leaning against the doorframe.

                “Hello, Dean,” he smiled. Damn, that smile. Dean could never get enough of it.

                “Hey, Cas. What’s uh, what’s goin’ on?” Dean managed to get out. He walked over towards his friend, leaning against the opposite side of the door frame. His eyes lingered on Cas’s, which were the brightest, most beautiful blue, but eventually he looked up to see what Cas was holding. “Is that, uh…”

                “It’s mistletoe, Dean. And I know I don’t have much knowledge on most human traditions, but I’m pretty sure that this means you’re supposed to kiss me.”

                Dean stood staring at the little bunch of leaves, mouth agape. Before he could do anything, Cas stepped towards him quickly, and pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. Stunned at first, Dean didn’t know what to do. Once he realized what happened, he relaxed into the embrace and wrapped one hand around Cas’s neck. Taking this as a good sign, Cas pressed forward, pinning Dean to the frame of the door. They stood there, engaging in such a sweet, simple action, for what seemed like forever. Dean’s head was spinning in the best way imaginable, and most of his thoughts failed him. All but the one that told him that nothing felt more right than this, than him and Cas.

                Cas pulled back and stared at Dean. He smiled and let out a little laugh. “Well that was, different.”

                Dean coughed, a little embarrassed, and turned, trying to leave. Hiding was his thing, he was good at hiding. Cas slapped his hand against the frame, blocking Dean from leaving. “Good different, Dean.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips across Dean’s forehead.

                “Good,” Dean laughed, filling the silence. “I’m glad.”

                Cas stepped backwards from Dean, and instead of walking out into the hall, he turned and made his way to Dean’s bed. “How about that nap now?” he said, in that sweet, sweet voice. Cas patted the bed with his hand and beckoned Dean with the other. Smirking, Dean sauntered over to his bed and fell down on it, propping himself up on his side to mirror Cas. He stared at Cas, soaking up every detail, because he never wanted this moment to end. 


End file.
